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Tuesday, September 24, 2013

It was the cool of the evening in Mfuwe,
and all the animals were gathered around the watering hole for their usual
discussion of the affairs of state. ‘I wonder,’ said the Wise Elephant, ‘why we
have never appointed a king?’

‘You only wonder that,’ growled Mighty
Lion, ‘because you would like to be king yourself.’

The Elegant Giraffe looked down
serenely upon this little discussion. ‘We already have the Brutal Buffaloes for
war, Educated Elephants as our judges and the Honorable Hippopotamuses to make
our laws. So what would we do with a king?’

‘We have nobody to represent us,’ said
the Wise Elephant. ‘When important visitors arrive from abroad there is nobody
to greet them and introduce them to our hiccupping hippos and lovable lions, or
to show them the biggest baobab tree in the world. Other countries have kings,
why can’t we?’

‘The problem with having a king,’ said
Lion, ‘is that he’ll soon become pompous. Instead of just showing visitors
around, and taking the lead in singing the Song of Mfuwe, he’ll think he’s in
charge of everything and start bossing us around.’

‘Quite right,’ said the Bold Baboon. ‘Look
at Wise Elephant here, he’s already stronger than everybody else, and thinks he
knows everything. Just think what a nuisance he might become if we made him
king!’

After that remark, everybody sat quiet,
not wanting to annoy Wise Elephant. Finally Klever Kalulu perked up. ‘What we
need,’ he said ‘is a democratic king. Not some big fellow with his own ideas.
Just an ordinary little fellow with no ideas. Then we can fill his head with
our ideas. Not proud of himself but proud of Mfuwe. An empty little vessel into
which we can put the constitution, so that he can understand the job of being a
king. Starting from nothing, he can then fill himself with wisdom and grow to
be a good king.’

‘Are you proposing yourself?’ sneered
Mighty Lion.

‘Certainly not,’ kackled Klever
Kalulu. ‘I was thinking of Common Cobra. He’s a real commoner, an inhabitant of
the grass roots who knows all the animals of the forest. No education or ideas.
He should be our ideal candidate. Our sole candidate!’

And so it was that the Common Cobra
became King Cobra.

But things did not go well. The very
things that Mighty Lion had warned against soon came to pass. The king
recruited all the hyenas as his Police Force, now known as the Dreaded PF, which
began to terrorise all the other animals. Any animal that had once laughed at
King Cobra when he was just a Common Cobra were now declared his enemies, arrested
by the Dreaded PF and brought to court. The king fired Wise Elephant as the
Chief Judge, and replaced him with the ancient Cranky Crocodile, who did
whatever she was told, provided she was allowed to eat the enemies of the king.

And the animals soon found that it was
impossible for the animals to instruct King Cobra on the constitution. He built
himself a new palace called Snake House and never came out, never listened to
advice and never talked to the other animals - except to give instructions to
the Dreaded PF hyenas.

He made the baboons construct a huge
tower in the grounds of Snake House, and each morning he would climb to the
top, declaring that he was getting instructions from God and that he was
governing the country according to the Ten Commandments. And the animals
whispered one to another that he was supposed to be listening to the people and
following the constitution. But nobody dared to speak out for fear of the PF
hyenas and the ancient Cranky Crocodile that lurked around the courtroom.

Things got even worse when he ordered
the animals to collect all the fruit from the forest for export to Ching-Chang.
The animals also had to construct the roads needed to export the fruit to
Ching-Chang. The animals were now exhausted and near starvation. The king was
selling the fruit to build a gold statue of himself, ten metres tall, where the
animals could all be ordered to march up and down and salute the Great King
Cobra. ‘These great roads, and this great statue,’ declared the king, ‘will be
the enduring legacy of the Great King Cobra!’

By now the animals were in a state of
silent and sullen rebellion. But they could no longer meet around the watering
hole to discuss the constitutional crisis. The king had declared that any
meeting first needed permission from the Dreaded PF hyenas, which was much the
same thing as asking for a cuddle with the Cranky Crocodile.

Then one little elephant called Mumbo
Jumbo did a very brave thing for such a small fellow. He called a secret
meeting in the Dark Corner of the forest. And there it was that these
treacherous and treasonable animals came up with a plan to overthrow their
king. They agreed that on the Great Day of the Unveiling of the Statue of the Golden
King, the baboons would run up and tie a rope around the statue’s neck, and
then all the elephants would pull the statue down.

Which they did. And the strange thing
was that the statue came down very easily, and the hyenas all ran away. And
another strange thing was that the statue was hollow. Even the head was
completely empty. There was nothing inside the statue except some smoldering
ashes at the bottom. The Wise Elephant put his head inside the statue to have a
look. ‘These ashes,’ he said solemnly, ‘are all that remain of our
constitution.’

And from that day to this, in the land
of Mfuwe, everybody is afraid of snakes. That is the legacy of King Cobra.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

‘All was not well in the Kingdom of
Mfuwe. The Great Elephant King Cycle Mata had become too powerful, and his elephant
ministers were trampling on the other animals...’

‘Grandpa’ Nawiti interrupted, ‘Why was he
called Cycle Mata?’

‘Nobody’s quite sure,’ I said. ‘But some
people say it was because he was always running round and round in circles and
never getting anywhere. In those days elephants often ran round in circles after
eating too much marula, the favourite fruit of the elephant. It was marula that
gave elephants their great size and power.’

‘Mummy says that money is power.’

‘But in those days in Mfuwe, marula was
power. You see, the elephants had enormous bellies and could eat huge quantities
of marula. This was what enabled the elephants to become so big and strong, and
to rule over all the other animals.’

‘So what was the problem?’

‘The problem was that the elephants
became greedy for more power, and began to eat too much marula, and became
drunk with power. You see, if an elephant eats too much marula, the juice
ferments in its belly and turns into alcohol, and the elephant becomes drunk.
Of course nobody knew about alcohol in those days, they just thought that the
elephant had eaten too much and was suffering from indigestion.’

‘So the elephants couldn’t run the
country properly?’

‘They were always blundering around,
not knowing what they were doing, trampling on other animals and knocking over
trees. And then things got worse.’

‘What happened?

‘The Great King Elephant Cycle Mata
fell over sideways and couldn’t get up. He was very sick.’

‘What was wrong with him? Too much
marula?’

‘Everybody thought it must be his allergy.
He had always been very allergic to corruption.’

‘What is corruption, Grandpa?’

‘Corruption is when the ruling
elephants, who are supposed to ensure that all animals get their fair share of
marula, instead eat it all themselves and leave the other animals to starve.’

‘So who was in charge while the king
was sick?’

‘That was the problem. His ministers had always taken instructions from the king, none of them has any brains of their own.
That was why he had chosen them. In addition, of course, they were drunk all
the time, and the country was falling into ruin and the other animals were starving.’

‘Couldn’t they do anything at all?
Like stop stealing the marula?’

‘All they could do was quarrel amongst
themselves about who should take over from the king. The Minister for the Indefensible,
The Great Belly of Marula, or GBM as was he was known, declared that the king
would live forever, meaning of course that he himself would take over. But the
little elephant Splinter Kapimbe, who had a small belly but a big head swollen
with marula, declared that GBM had raised the matter too soon and he would be
disciplined. This meant of course that Spinter was the one in charge and he would
soon take over. Then GBM rented a pack of hyena to change the minds of Splinter
and his supporters.

‘The country was going to the dogs,’
said Nawiti sadly.

‘Not only that,’ I said. ‘An angry rhinoceros
called HaHa started to laugh and sneer, shouting that These elephants have stolen all your fruit, they are corrupt. You think
they are building you roads, but these roads are just to take all the marula from
the trees to the palace and leave you with none. The previous king used to give
you a subsidy of dried marula during the dry season to keep you alive, but they
have removed the subsidy and left you to starve. Why does the king have a hundred ministers, all chewing our marula? Appoint me as king and I shall
manage the entire kingdom properly, just as I manage my beautiful impala farm in
the Zambezi Valley.’

‘So what happened next?’

‘The king’s wife, the Great
She-Elephant, came back from India with a doctor, who took one look at the king
and declared that the king’s belly was full of overly fermented marula. The
alcohol had turned to acid which was beginning to eat the king. So he made a
hole in the king’s belly, let out the acid, and the king leapt back to life and
started castigating everybody:

‘You fools!’ he shouted at his
ministers. ‘You can’t even answer HaHa! While I was sick you couldn’t even say
Booo!’

‘He had forgotten,’ said Nawiti, ‘that
he had been too sick to give them instructions.’

‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘He had forgotten
that he had deliberately chosen ministers who were incapable of arguing with the
king, and therefore equally incapable of arguing with anybody else. And he’d also
forgotten that they were so drunk with power that they were too arrogant to even
answer simple questions.’

‘And what did he do with the two
elephants who had been fighting over his crown?’

‘He declared that anyone challenging
him should not hide their intentions, but should nominate themselves as
candidates.’

‘And did they?’

‘Unfortunately, while paddling their
canoes to the nomination centre, they were both eaten by crocodiles.’

‘Wow,’ said Nawiti, ‘it must have
taken a lot of crocodiles.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘The crocodiles were
very well organized.’

‘So did HaHa become the new king?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘All the animals went
to him and pleaded with him to take over. He said he was a good businessman,
and would soon sort everything out.’

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

‘Come in, come in, Kalaki,’ said the
Honorable Blinker Kapimbe, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. ‘Just
tell me what’s worrying you, I can explain everything.’

‘To start with,’ I said, ‘I see that
the notice on your door says Minister of
Injustice rather than Minister of
Justice.’

‘That a legacy from the previous MMD
minister,’ he explained. ‘Terrible fellow! Mad as a hatter! I’ve been so busy
bringing justice to the entire country that I quite forgot about my own door.
But if you’re just doing a national door inspection, perhaps you’d like to move
on to the next door and leave me to do my work.’

‘There’s just one question I wanted to
ask,’ I said. ‘I’ve been wondering about your strategy of increasing your
parliamentary majority by giving ministerial jobs to opposition MPs, and
causing by-elections.’

‘Then you can stop wondering,’ said
Blinker. ‘We are building an all inclusive government for national development.’

‘Half a minute,’ I said. ‘You invited the
notorious Violence Kaponya to be a minister, and now he’s standing for your
Paya Farmer party in the Katali by-election. Do you really want Violence in
your party?’

‘He sat back in his chair, leaning his
head towards the rows of law books on the shelves behind him. They looked all very
new, as if they’d never been touched. ‘What’s your point?’ he sneered. ‘We got
him from the Multi-Murder Disaster party. They’re all violent!’

‘My point is,’ I said, ‘the Paya
Farmer party is supposed to be opposed to Violence, but now you’ve invited him
in.’

‘How little you understand politics,
Kalaki,’ he laughed. ‘When we were in opposition we were accused of being
violent, just as you now accuse the Honorable Kaponya of being violent. This is
the nature of politics. Just as politics is partisan, so political violence is
also partisan. Violence Kaponya was only violent because he was in the
opposition. You’re entirely correct that we are against Violence in the
opposition, and that is precisely why we invited him to join the government in
order to make Violence legitimate.’

‘Violence is legitimate in government?’

‘Don’t you understand anything,
Kalaki? The police and army use violence to maintain law and order. It is
legitimate violence. It is the firm smack of authority. Therefore, once you’re
in government, violence becomes legitimate force.’

‘I’m so pleased,’ I said, ‘that you
have this marvelous project of turning the notorious Violence Kaponya into a
useful citizen. But can he really win on the PF ticket? You see, since the
voters previously elected him as their MMD candidate, now they see him as a
traitor who has deserted them because of being bribed. So how can they be
expected to vote for him? They won’t! They despise him!’

‘We shall make clear to them that if
they don’t vote for him then they will get no development, no farmers’ inputs,
no relief food. They will starve to death!’

‘But doesn’t the government have a
responsibility to look after its people?’

‘Of course, but only if the people
also show responsibility by voting for the government of the day. Otherwise we
shall have no option except to treat them as enemies of the state.’

‘But then people might vote for the
opposition in the hope of better treatment!’

‘Ha ha,’ cackled Kapimbe, ‘That won’t
work! Any time any of them wins, we shall appeal and the result will be
annulled because of corruption!’

‘But even PF candidates can have also their
seats annulled because of corruption!’

‘Oh no they can’t!’ he shouted. ‘I’ve
got that one worked out! We’re the ruling party! If the opposition gives gifts
it’s automatically corruption! But the government doesn’t give gifts, it gives
legitimate benefits such as food relief, new schools and roads. We provide
government services! That’s not corrupton! It’s the benefit of incumbency! It’s
legal!’

‘Is that what the law says?’

‘That’s why we need to control the
judiciary! What do you think my job is? I just write the judgment and give it
to the judge! The judge gives it to the Electoral Commission! The Commission
gives it to the opposition candidates! All suspended! Ah haaah!’ he screamed
suddenly like a madman. ‘We must have sanity!’

‘Will the judges agree?’

‘We’ve given them most agreeable
contracts! And they’re all old and senile and know they’d be unemployable
anywhere else! They understand that violence comes from the opposition, and
that we in government use legitimate force. They understand that corruption
comes from the opposition, and we distribute legitimate benefits.’

‘But aren’t you the very one who accused
the previous government of corruption?’

‘Yes, but we shall soon be eliminating
any chance of any such charges against us!’

‘How will you do that?’ I wondered.

‘Ha ha!’ he squealed like a demented
rat. ‘We shall be changing the constitution to eliminate the possibility!’

‘But how will you do that?’

‘Kalaki, can’t you understand anything?
We are buying, er, I mean looking for opposition MPs to work with us to unify
the nation, so that we can change the constitution.’ He stood to attention and
saluted the little flag sitting on his bookshelf. ‘After that there will be only
one party! One nation! One fatherland! One people! One blood! One destiny! One
leader! Ha ha!’ he squealed, ‘We have worked it all out!’

‘We?’ I wondered. ‘Who is we?’

‘Me!’ he screamed. ‘I am the new
leader!’

Whereupon he started marching up and
down his office, saluting the flag, with feet kicking high in an energetic
goose-step. He was now in a mindless nationalistic frenzy.

I crept out of the office, closing the
door quietly behind me. ‘Jesus Christ Almighty,’ I muttered to myself, ‘I’d
rather have GBM.’

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

‘It was in the playground during
morning break,’ she sniffed, ‘when suddenly one of the boys shouted SNAKE! and then all the boys picked up
sticks and stones and beat a little snake to death. It was terrible! Why did
they do it Grandpa?’

‘What do you think?’

‘I think they did it because they are
nasty little creatures!’

‘What, snakes?’

‘No, the boys! Why are boys such nasty
little creatures, Grandpa?’

‘It’s not the boys’ fault,’ I said.
‘It’s because they’re scared of snakes.’

‘But why are they so scared?’

‘It wasn’t always so,’ I admitted.
‘There was a time when we used to live in harmony with the animals of the
forest. That’s how it was a hundred years ago in the little village of Zed. Some of the
animals from the forest even used to come and live in the village. The wild
dogs became tame, and used to help with hunting. Spiders and lizards came to
eat the mosquitoes and flies. Everybody lived happily together. Although there
was a problem with the rats who would come to steal food.’

‘That was not so good,’ said Nawiti.

‘Not at all,’ I agreed. ‘People wasted
too much time chasing rats. Then one day a great python from the forest
appeared in the village and said Rats are
my favorite food, let me stay in your village and your rat problem will be
over.’

‘And were their problems over?’

‘Oh yes. Anytime the python found a
rat he just swallowed it whole. So he soon became a popular friend of the
people. Everybody call him PF, although nobody was quite sure whether PF meant
Popular Friend or Python of the Forest.’

‘So everybody was now happy?’
suggested Nawiti.

‘It was not a happy time,’ I replied
sadly. ‘It was the time when people were becoming very unhappy with their
chief, a fat and greedy fellow called Nyamasoya. He would take the people’s
beer for his own beer parties and take their cows to buy more wives for himself.’

‘So the people became annoyed?’

‘Of course. But the Python from the
Forest knew how to take advantage of the situation. While people were sleeping
he would go round whispering in people’s ears, saying I am your popular friend PF, I got rid of the rats for you and now I
can get rid of Nyamasoya! Vote for me and I shall swallow him whole! Shush!
Don’t kubeba! Just vote for me! ’

‘And did they?’ wondered Nawiti.

‘Oh yes. The PF was elected Chief and
immediately assumed the grand title of His Excellency the Greatest Python from
the Forest and Swallower of the Enemies of the People.’

‘And did he swallow all the enemies of
the people?’

‘Oh yes. He completely encircled
Nyamasoya, and then slowly swallowed him. He had indigestion for three weeks.’

‘But wasn’t he supposed to put
Nyamasoya before a judge?’

‘He had already swallowed all the
judges and replaced them with parrots.’

‘Wasn’t that against the law?’

‘He made the law himself!’

‘How did he do that?’

‘He swallowed all the opposition
members of parliament!’

‘Was that allowable under the
constitution?’

‘He’d already swallowed the
constitution!’

‘Couldn’t he be prosecuted?’

‘He swallowed the prosecutor!’

‘So there wasn’t a prosecutor?’

‘He replaced him with a snake!’

‘Oh dear,’ said Nawiti sadly, ‘He had
seemed to be such a well meaning python, but now he was swallowing everybody!’

‘Not everybody,’ I explained. ‘Only
those with power. Soon the Python from the Forest had all the power to himself,
and nobody could challenge him. All the institutions of the state had been
swallowed. The police force was completely swallowed, and replaced by a pack of
mindless hyenas.’

‘Did he really have to eat everything?’

‘The appetite for power is a form of
gluttony. The more the python eats, the more he wants to eat. Until all its
competitors for power have been swallowed.’

‘So what happens then? What other
power can it feed upon when the only power remaining is itself?’

‘That is the inevitable and tragic
part of the story,’ I replied sadly. ‘There was nothing left for it to attack. The
monster now had no choice but to turn upon itself. The internal organs of the
python begin to fight each other for power. The little brain, the Dotty, tried
to get more power over the mouth in order to get more food for itself. But
greedy mouth, the Kabika, now reached down towards the Great Belly of the
Monster, the GBM. The GBM desperately reached up to the heart to seek
protection, but found nothing there but a spitting cobra. As the python writhed
in the agony of its own self destruction, its swallowed victims escaped from
its torn belly. And so, after the agonies of the PF dictatorship, the village
of Zed returned to normal.’

‘Ooh,’ said Nawiti, ‘what a relief!’

‘And ever since then,’ I explained,
‘people have always been frightened of snakes, even when they look quite
innocent and peaceful. Tell me, as those boys were killing the snake, what were
they shouting?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘It sounded
like they were chanting Piss Off! Piss
Off!’